Jumpers
by RandomGeek18
Summary: "I feel it to, you know; the pull to the dark." she states, her voice cracking. "The voice of death sounds so sweet sometimes but it's a lying bastard." Reylo. Modern AU. TRIGGER WARNING. Self harm/suicide/depression.
1. The Bridge

**A/N: I don't own anything but the story idea. Please do not read if this is in anyway triggering. PLEASE! I just wrote this because it distracts from my own depression and helps put emotions to use in a healthy outlet. Please no hate.**

Rey hurries down the street, cursing everything she can think of, as the rain intensifies. Her, Poe and Finn just finished having dinner at Maz's Diner. They stayed until the place closed at ten o'clock and they reluctantly had to say goodnight. She turned down the ride home that Finn had offered, insisting that she'd be fine walking and that she rather enjoyed it anyway. How much she regrets that decision now. The clouds that looked far off and nonthreatening just a few hours ago have invaded, throwing everything they have at the small figure running down the street. She would absolutely love to call Finn to come back and pick her up but her phone is dead, not to mention she doesn't want to bother him. It's late and it's her own fault that she's out in this weather. She determines she'll just have to suffer through it, hopefully not for too long. She starts crossing the Starkiller, a closed off bridge that is a shortcut to her apartment building. On days when the weather isn't trying to drowned her, she really likes to sit and look out at the view. She feels like she can see the whole world from there and for a girl who thought her life would end in the claustrophobically small bedroom she was confined to, it makes her extremely content yet at the same time gives her a urge to run off and explore what lies beyond the horizon. Now as she crosses the abandoned bridge, she can make out a lone figure ahead of her. As she nears him, she see's he's standing atop the railing. With the wind and rain, it almost looks like he's just floating in the air, like those cartoons, about ready to fall. What she doesn't realize is that's pretty much what he is doing; hovering inches away from the drop that will easily end his life. The war raging inside his head is more intense than the storm raging around him; the decision between staying or going, stepping down or stepping off, life or death. He doesn't notice the girl walking quickly towards him. He's shaking, not from the chill of the rain or the biting wind wiping his rain-soaked hair against his tear stained face, but from the terror of the choice in front of him. He wants to take that small step that will end everything but he can't move. There is something in him still fighting to live, to survive. He cries harder and screams at his cowardly self, his voice drowned out by the rain and wind. Rey is now close enough to hear him and realizes what's going on. She closes the distance between them quickly, her heartbeat racing with the memories of her own past crashing into her mind, and hoping against hope she gets to him in time. She stands a few feet away from him, trying not to startle him.

"Hey." she shouts, making sure she's heard above the din of the storm. She's soaked through and freezing but couldn't care less at the moment. She's too worried about this stranger's well being. His head wips around at her exclamation. A crack of lightning strikes and illuminates his face. His eyes are shot from crying and full of despair, his mouth open slightly taking in short breathes. She realizes she knows him. Well not really but he's stopped in a few times to the second hand store she works at. She knows his name but other than that, all she knows about him is comes from the gossip that floats around her work place. She doesn't give it much attention though.

He looks at her shocked. He thinks maybe he's jumped and this is just a hallucination in the unconscious state between living and dead. He didn't think anyone would be out here on Starkiller this late, in this storm, especially her, but finds some small semblance of relief by the interruption.

"What are you doing?" he asks, still balancing precariously on the railing.

If it wasn't such a tense situation, she'd laugh at his question. He's the one literally inches away from death and he asks _her_ what _she's_ doing?

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Why don't you come down here and we can talk?" she holds her hand out to him, though with his towering height added to the three foot railing her hand is pretty pointless. He hesitates, glancing between her and where the swirling water beacons below.

"I feel it to, you know; the pull to the dark." she states, her voice cracking. "The voice of death sounds so sweet sometimes but it's a lying bastard."

His eyes find hers and he can tell she's crying, even in the rain. He's too familiar with the act. "You?" he questions, not willing to believe the energetic girl he's come to admire from a distance could be capable of the thoughts that constantly bombard him.

She nods, "Mmhmm. It does get better though, I promise."

He shakes his head, "No, not for me. I don't deserve it, anyway. This...this is better for everyone." He looks back down into the darkness below and turns his body away from Rey.

In a rush of clouded panic, she scurries up onto the railing next to him. "You listen to me now, Benjamin Solo. Your happiness is not dependent on other people, you hear me?" she grips his arm, just above his elbow. He looks at her confused, not because she's standing next to him or holding onto him but because she knows his name. Still he shakes his head at her.

"You don't understand. I'm a screw up. I don't deserve to be here. No one wants me here." he's crying harder now, the warmth of his tears contrasting the chill of the drops of rain they mix with.

"It's not about what you've done but what you're willing to do. Everyone makes mistakes but you can't let those define you. What defines you is how many times you get up after you're knocked down." her grip on his arm tightens and her tone takes on a whole new level of seriousness, "And don't you dare tell me that I don't understand because no one understands better than I do As of right now, _I_ want you here but if you decide to jump then I'll be jumping right along with you." her words leave him speechless.

"No." he finds his voice. "No, you can't do that."

"And why not?" she glides her fingers down to find his and intertwines them.

"I can't let you hurt yourself because of me." he pulls his hand free of hers.

"Then why hurt yourself because of someone else?"

His thoughts rush to his mother. "It's not, though. It's me. It's my fault. I don't deserve her." he cries out. She was always so gently with him. He remembers the way she'd pull his hair away from his face when he was concentrating on something, the way she'd always give him a kiss on the forehead when he left to go anywhere, the way she'd snuggle him in his bed when he was younger and had nightmares. "All I do is disappoint her."

"That isn't for you to decide." she says, hardly above a whisper but it sounds like a shout to him. She doesn't know who he's talking about but she knows he obviously cares very deeply about them. He slumps down and slides off the railing onto the walkway of the bridge. Rey follows quickly behind. "My apartment isn't far. Why don't we go talk somewhere warmer?" _And safer._ she thinks.


	2. The Wounds

**A/N: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING. I changed up the last chapter a bit, if you've read it before today. Nothing drastic but some stuff in this chapter might not make sense because of the change. Again, only writing to ease my own demons. Please no hate.**

Rey walks out into her living room, carrying a pile of towels and dry clothes. Fortunately, Finn had left a few changes of clothes for when he has to crash at her place every so often. Her footsteps are accompanied by water droplets rolling off her body since she hasn't changed out of her own sopping wet clothes. She is far more concerned with the broken man sitting on her couch. She knows exactly where he is, mentally. She's been there too many times, far too many to forget. She knows that while it might be the farthest thing from what he wants right now, the only thing he needs is someone to stay with him. She sets the pile of things on her coffee table, unfolding a towel and handing it to Ben.

"Here " she says with a soft smile.

He takes it rubbing it against his head, sending droplets of water across the room. "Thank you." He refuses to look up at her, too ashamed by everything he's done. She sits down on the opposite side of the couch, not wanting to push her boundaries to far.

"I'm Rey, by the way." she offers.

He nods his head, slightly, already aware of this, "Ben." he states, though realizes too late that she somehow already knows this.

"You are more than welcome to crash here tonight, Ben, if you want. I mean, I would offer to take you home but I've only got a motorcycle and I don't think that'd be the best idea. Not in this weather anyway." she realizes she's beginning to ramble and winds down.

"No, that's fine. I can just walk-"

"Oh, that's not going to happen." she quickly shut down that idea.

"But..." he starts, his rebuttal dying in his mouth.

"Listen, tomorrow morning I will take you back to that bridge and we'll watch the sunrise. If you still want to jump after that, then I won't stop you." she states, to his surprise.

"Are you serious?"

"Very." the intenseness of the look she gives him causes goose-bumps to pop up all over his skin. "Seeing the sunrise can do wonders for someone's hope. Trust me, I would know."

"Hope is a lie fabricated by people without anything worthwhile in life." he looks down at his hands, picking at his nails.

"But hope isn't something that you can define as a truth or lie. It's an idea, a lifeline, a last chance. It doesn't matter if your hope is _in_ a lie. Hope is still hope. It's the thing that gets you through your crappy today in order to make it to tomorrow." she tries to catch his eye to help reassure him but he seems awfully interested in his hands.

"But when your hope is placed in something that never fulfills its promise, then what's the point? Wouldn't it be better to be hopeless than have your expectations shattered?" his voice is soft but pained, almost angry even.

She has a hard time replying to that. She would say that you just hope in something else but then it seems like a vicious cycle; hope, disappointment, hoping again. "I guess you just have to place your hope in something that won't disappoint."

His laugh is hollow, ringing with distain, "Oh, if only it were that simple."

"But it is." she says, scooting closer to him, "Hope is like love but kind of more important. You should only place it in things you are absolutely certain are deserving of it but sometimes you gotta risk it. It's your choice to be disappointed by something."

"But just like love, you can be easily deceived by false advertising." his words drip with bitterness, with unfortunate experience.

"If you take that stance in life then you'll never be happy, never find what you're looking for." she reaches out to take his hand but he pulls it away to run his fingers through his wet hair.

"Who the heck said I wanted to be happy? That I deserve to be happy? I was _looking_ for the end but you took that away from me." He finally looks up at her but his eyes are a mixture of despair, anger, and sorrow.

Rey's heart literally aches, from his words and the things she sees in his eyes combined. "No." she says simply, tears threatening to spill over, her voice cracking with the one word.

"That's it? No?" he looks confused, expecting a long ramble or lecture.

"That's it."

"Why?"

"I refuse to believe it. I refuse to take the blame for saving your goddamn life because ultimately that was your choice. Everything you do is your own choice, whether you want to believe it or not." the tears slip down her cheeks, dripping onto the shaking hands sitting in her lap.

"Not everything." he mumbles.

"Yes, everything!" she nearly shouts, but realizing yelling will do no good, she lowers her voice and scoots even closer to him so their thighs are touching. "You may think you don't have a choice because people try to suffocate you into choosing what they want but at the end of the day, it's you who has to deal with the consequences so you had better choose what you want."

"And what about hurting the people you love? What about ruining someone's life by the choice you make?" he jumps up off the couch, fist shaking. He winces though, clutching his stomach.

"Ben? What's wrong?" she hurries over to him.

"Nothing. It's nothing. I'll be fine." He wheezes. "Don't worry about it."

 _Screw that_ , Rey thinks to herself. She reaches out and lifts up his shirt. Cluttering his abdomen are countless scars and cuts. "Oh." she sighs, spotting the offending wound; a large, deep cut sliding diagonally up his stomach. It's the freshest with bruising surrounding it and blood seeping down his skin. "Take off your shirt so I can tend to this." she commands, pulling up on his black, long sleeved shirt. He hesitates but she lays a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not here to judge you, Ben. I'm here to help." at her urging, he pulls his shirt off, hissing at the movement. Rey clasps her hands over her mouth at the sight of his scarred up body. There are so many but the ones that she can't help staring at the longest are the three horizontal, jagged scars along his left wrist. She lifts his hand up to inspect them closer, noticing the depth he cut them and wondering how he's still alive after these cuts alone. "I'm so sorry." she whispers, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Sit on the couch. I'll be right back." she turns and walks back to her bathroom to gather the things necessary for tending his wounds.

He does as she told him, shocked as to what just conspired. No one has ever looked at him or his scars like that before. The few who saw what he's done to himself said his scars were ugly and made them feel uncomfortable. They never asked if he needed help, if they could do anything for him, they just told him to cover up. They tried to ignore what he'd done but still judged him by it. Not Rey though. He feels like he's finally found someone who understands what's really going on in the convoluted, jumbled up mind of his. He just can't help the penetrating thought that she really doesn't care, that she'll leave him even more broken, that he doesn't deserve any of this. His mind is a wreck with hateful thoughts bombarding him.

"Alright, lay down flat on your back." Rey says as she walks back into the room. He obeys. She kneels beside him, holding a few first aid supplies. "This might hurt a little." She wipes away the blood with a warm, wet cloth. He hisses, his body tensing up. She applies an antibiotic to the wound and then puts a bandage over it, making sure it is firmly in place.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" Ben asks her, ignoring the rush that shoots through him as her fingers dance across his bare skin.

"Google mostly." She answers, moving to bandage a bleeding cut on his shoulder.

He wants to ask her why she Googled how to tend to cuts like his. He wants to know why she seems personally attached to his problems. But he doesn't. He stays quiet while she moves along his body, fixing up his outside while pondering how to do the same to his inner self.

"Why are you doing this? You could have left me on the bridge. Why inconvenience yourself for someone like me?" he finally voices the question that's been nagging at him since they got to her apartment. She finishes up and sits back on the floor so she's eye level with him.

"First of all, you are not an inconvenience. I'm putting it out there now that if you ever need anything, Ben Solo, my door is always open. You'll never inconvenience me, promise. Second, only the most screwed up person would leave someone dangling between life and death atop a bridge. I'm doing this because no matter what, suicide is not the answer and sometimes you need someone to help you realize that. So from here on out, I'm gonna be that person for you until you understand that the world will _not_ be a better place without you, that inflicting pain on yourself ultimately does not help you, and that not being okay is okay."

"But why?" his eyelids start drooping and he yawns. "Why…what…" his head falls back against the couch cushion.

"Sshh." She stands, grabbing a blanket from a chair and laying it across his body. "I'll see you in the morning."

Ben falls asleep to thoughts of his mother tucking him into bed and gently kissing his forehead goodnight.

 **A/N: There will be at least one more chapter. Thank you for reading. Hope you have a day as lovely as yourself!**


	3. The Morning After

**A/N: Possible trigger warning…sorry for the terribly long time it took to update. Life is crazy.**

Ben wakes slowly, the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. As he sits up, holding his side that aches, his nose recognizes the glorious smell of bacon wafting in from the kitchen. Soon his ears clear enough to hear the sizzle and the soft beat of a song with someone singing along. Rey. His wince soon turns to a soft smile as he remembers last night, well the good parts of last night. He rises and makes his way into her kitchen. He stops at the sight that meets him and his heart does a little flip. Rey is in front of the stove, her back to him, cooking bacon and flipping pancakes, her head bopping and her body swaying in time to the song flowing from her phone that sits on the counter. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun and she's wearing an oversized t-shirt and leggings. He finds her absolutely adorable. No one has ever made him feel this way and it kind of scares him. Actually it terrifies him. He knows he's not good enough for anyone and falling for someone will only make it hurt more when they leave. He shakes his head and shuffles into the kitchen, causing Rey to turn around.

She gives him a smile, one that crawls across her face causing the skin around her eyes to scrunch, "Good morning, Ben. I hope you slept well." She says while sliding bacon onto a plate.

"Um…yeah, actually. A lot better than I have been." He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's good to hear. Have a seat." She motions to the bar stools next to him.

"Thanks." He slides onto one, taking in a breath as he bumps into the edge of the counter.

"Mhmm." She can tell the cut on his stomach stopped bleeding, which is good. She was afraid he might have needed stitches. His hair is a mess with strands sticking out every which way, there are bags under his eyes, and his spindly body is covered in scars but Rey finds him strikingly attractive none the less. From his soft, golden eyes that are so deep, with this lonely pull to them, to the slight scruff caressing his face to the quirk of his lips as she sets a plate of food in front of him. She finds it all appealing. "You are hungry, right? Because I just made like a million pancakes and there's no way…" she trails off as he forgoes the fork and stuff a whole pancake in his mouth, followed closely by a strip of bacon.

"Thes ish sho goog." He says, his mouth full of food. He swallows before continuing, "I love chocolate chip pancakes. My mom…" he swallows again but not because of food. "I used to have them every Saturday morning when I was little." He says less enthusiastically, stuffing another bite into his mouth, slower this time.

"Well, good cause there's no way I could have eaten all of these myself." She takes the last few pancakes off the griddle before standing across from him, taking a mouthful of pancake herself.

They eat their breakfast in relative silence, Rey's music still floating softly around the kitchen.

"Oh, coffee!" Rey exclaims suddenly. "You drink coffee, Ben?" He nods and she scurries across the kitchen, opening a cupboard. She reaches up and pulls down two cups, pouring the steaming liquid into both. "Do you take cream or sugar? I drink mine black but I ran out this morning and bought some creamer in case you didn't. I also have artificial sweetener if you don't do sugar. I have honey too." She quiets down, realizing she was rambling, and brings his coffee over to him, as he just stares back at her in shock. "Sorry." She adds in a whisper.

"I…I'll take cream, please. And sugar." He finally says, surprised that she's gone to all this trouble for him.

"Right." She hurries to the fridge, pulls out a small container, grabs a little jar from the counter, and a spoon from a drawer. "Here you go." She lays it all in front of him, like an offering of some sort, and smiles sheepishly.

"Thank you, Rey."

"Hey, don't worry about it." She takes another bite, washing it down with some coffee.

"No, really." He puts down his fork, tears springing up in his eyes. "Thank you. For everything."

She hurries around the counter and hops up onto the stool next to him, "Your welcome, Ben. But really, don't worry about it." She places her hand over his. "It's my pleasure."

He looks down at their hands and notices faint scars running along her arm, realization dawning on him. "You…you…" he picks up her hand, turning it over to better examine her past.

"Yeah, yeah I did." Her voice cracks, tears welling in her eyes now. "That's why I know what you're going through, where you're at, and why I'm here to help you get away."

He gently grabs her other arm, finding it covered in more scars, these ones deeper and darker. He does something no one's ever done to her, something she never thought someone would do. He brings her arm to his mouth and kisses her scars before encompassing her slender hands in his callused ones. "I'm so sorry." He whispers, because he knows what she had to go through to do this to herself and he can't stand the thought of this beautiful, caring women who saved his life having to deal with the demons he knows haunted her nights. Tears slip down her cheeks and then he holding her. This is why she knew how to bandage his wounds, why she was so attached to his problems. He wants to ask her what happened that caused her to do this to herself but doesn't. Instead he holds her and she holds him, both of them fixing the other with the broken pieces of their pasts.

 **A/N: There will be one more chapter that will explain their pasts…it's just not finished yet. Sorry. It should be up soon though. TTFN.**


	4. The Sunrise

**A/N: Finally! I know it been like a seriously long time since updating and I do apologize. It just took awhile to write the ending for this story. It was hard. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think.**

"Tell me." she asks, leaning away from their embrace. "Tell me what happened."

He looks at her, searching her eyes for any reason to distrust her. He only finds openness and a spark of warmth that seems to make her eyes glow. "My family loved doing things together, whether it be bowling or playing monopoly or cooking; we just enjoyed each other so much that it didn't matter what we were doing, as long as we were doing it together." Tears formed by memories slip down his cheeks. "We decided one day to go bicycling. I don't know why or even whose idea it was but three years ago today found my parents and I riding along the forest trails. The subject was brought up about what I was going to do after high-school. I had thought about it before, made up my mind, but never approached my parents. My father wanted me to take over the trading company he'd build up with my uncle Chew. My mom threw out the idea of following in her footsteps in the political world. I couldn't see myself doing either. Being the punk ass teenager I was, I told them so but not in the most respectful of ways. My father got upset at me so I stormed off on my bike, riding down the trial and off onto the road. My father followed, so intent on catching up to me that he didn't see the car coming around the corner. He was dead before the ambulance got there. The last thing I said to him was 'Screw you, dad. Who needs you anyway?'" He hops off the stool, running a hand through his hair then down his face. "I did that to him! I killed him and stole him from my mother. I know she can't stand even looking at me and I feel the overwhelming guilt every time I look at her. It'd be better if I was just gone."

Rey hurries over to him, wiping the tears from his cheeks, oblivious to the ones streaming down her own, and takes his hand in hers. "I am so sorry." He crumples to the floor at that and she follows. "You can't take your mother's son too, though." He just shakes his head, covering his head in his hands. She gets an idea and stands up, holding out her hand for him. "Come on, Ben. I want to show you something."

He looks up at her confused, "What?" He takes her offered hand, getting to his feet.

* * *

It's a short walk from her place back to the bridge but it seems infinity longer because of the silence that passes between them. He has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatshirt and keeps glancing over at her every few minutes, unsure of what's going on. She, on the other hand, walks confidently, trying to keep up with his long strides. She's replaced her t-shirt with a bulky sweater. As they cross onto the bridge, she takes a hold of his hand and gives it a little squeeze. She leads him to the edge and leans against the railing that just a hours ago held the life of a young man atop itself. She doesn't say anything, letting the view speak for itself. She can see the effect though, that it has on Ben. His features soften as he takes it all in, tears forming in his eyes.

"How can something so deadly be so beautiful?" he whispers, looking out at the freshly risen sun surrounded by vibrantly colored clouds.

"It's all about how you use it."

"You were right," he pulls her hand closer. "It does do help boost my hope." his smile is so pure and genuine, Rey can't help the overwhelming sensation to kiss him right then and there that burst through her. She doesn't though. He has enough to deal with right now. She has enough to deal with too. Might as well not add to the pile. She decides to take a different path.

"My parents died when I was younger, about ten. Car accident." she says, Ben looking at her, taken aback. She looks out across the water, not being able to tell this story and look someone in the eye. "I was sent to live with my uncle. He was the only living family I had." she chokes up, sniffing and blinking away the moisture in her eyes. "Everything was okay for three years but soon after I turned thirteen, he started acting weird. He'd hug me longer and for odd reasons, his comforting hand soon turned a little rougher. Eventually he took it too far and-"

"Sshhh." Ben pulls her to his chest, not wanting to hear her say it as much as she didn't want to talk about it.

She does though, "He raped me. Repeatedly. He hurt me in so many ways and I couldn't say anything. He threatened to kill me, to let his friends do what he did. I felt like I had done something wrong so I was too afraid to say anything." she rolls up her sweater sleeves. "I had no control over my life, over how he hurt me, but I could control this. Eventually someone found out; I was sixteen. Everything came to light, he was thrown in jail, and I was thrown into the foster system. Nobody wanted the tattered garbage of a messed up childhood so I just crept into my depression farther and farther. My cuts got deeper, my meals got smaller, my words got softer. Once I turned eighteen, I was able to get out and start my own life. I just didn't know how to do that. It was a miracle that I found Finn when I did. He pretty much saved my life. He got me started on the right track and I haven't picked up a razor in nearly two years. It's not impossible but it's harder than hell."

He does it then, what she was too worried about doing earlier. He leans down, pressing his lips to hers softly, hesitantly, unsure if she will reciprocate his feelings. She is surprised at first, confused about what to do with her hands, her lips, but then she closes her eyes and melts into his embrace. It's like nothing she has ever felt before. She's never been in a relationship, never really felt so ardently for anyone. When she first met Finn, she sensed him harboring feelings for her but her wounds were still too fresh. By the time she had healed, mentally and physically, they were too close, too much like siblings, for anything to happen. Now, though, now is an entirely different story. She reaches up, running her fingers through the strands of his disheveled hair. Her other hand comes to rest on his chest, right above his heart. She can feel it beating, the reminder that this is real. They break apart, neither knowing how long the kiss had lasted, out of breath and smiling.

"The sunrise is nothing compared to you." Ben whispers, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.

She steps back slightly, her face becoming more serious, "You can't do this for me; get better. You can't do it for me or your mom or even your dad. We can help you, inspire you, but ultimately, it has to be for you. You are the only one who can save yourself."

He nods, the smile falling from his lips, "I know that."

"And it won't be easy." tears well up in her eyes, "There are going be days when you want to give up, to let it all go but you can't. You can't let your demons win." she seems to be reminding herself more than him.

He pulls her close. Comforting her solidifies something in him. He wants to get better, he doesn't want this pain, this suffering, anymore. He's not doing it for her, his father, or his mother. He's going to do it _because_ of them. He knows it will be hard but he also knows it will be worth it. It doesn't matter how long it takes, he will get better and he'll try to help mend whatever wounds are still untended in her soul as well.


End file.
